


the Hammer

by NicWrites



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fellowship of the Ring, Fix-It, Gen, Half Prose Half Poetry, Mjolnir to the Rescue, Poetry, The One Ring - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 07:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18734746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicWrites/pseuds/NicWrites
Summary: It was like Moria,there was the descent,only not that of crumbling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . stairs,it was all just in his horrible mind,. . . . . . . . . . . . when he could no let go.. . . . . . . . . . And then when he did,. . . . . . . . when he let him go,. . . . . . thank all the gods. . . . he let Frodo go,. . go meaning run,run away with fear and and and ———





	the Hammer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElrondsScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElrondsScribe/gifts).



> disclaimer: i enjoy questionable text formating (and it shows)

It is like Moria all over again, only now it is in bright daylight, and that somehow feels even worse. It is in the air that one will leave them, and no, not Frodo, please not him.  
It was like Moria,  
there was the descent,  
only not that of crumbling  
                                    stairs,  
it was all just in his horrible mind,  
                      when he could no let go.  
                 And then when he did,  
            when he let him go,  
        thank all the gods  
    he let Frodo go,  
 go meaning run,  
run away with fear and and and ———  
Frodo. He ran. He ran because of him, because he let the Thing let into his head and lie, it loved to whisper about the world's downfall and Minas Tirith in flames and his brother, his amazing little Faramir — who is not little anymore, but a warrior — lying dead, just next to their father, and there are flames,  
f  l  a  m  e  s  
everywhere and the White City is choking on them, she cannot stop the Enemy's forces attacking her walls and people, she is the last thing standing between the Place and the People, and she will fall.  
In the Place, there is the Eye. The Thing wants to get to the Eye.  
Now Frodo has it. Frodo the halfling, no scratch that, Frodo the Hobbit, the Ring-bearer, the bravest, the one cursed with the burden of holding the future in his little hands.  
Boromir wants to scream. Maybe he does. He is not sure, nothing is clear anymore, so he has to fight, his sword cutting slashing scraping stabbing swishing singing  
but it doesn't matter in the end, does it?  
He kills and kills and new enemies appear and it is an endless cycle of madness, only he does not want it to end, lest something even worse comes.  
It comes. It is coming. It is the Doom, the air is Doomed and they are Doomed and all is Doomed. So where is it hiding?  
Oh.  
There it is.  
The arrow.  
The arrow is out of the bow,  
out  
     of  
         the  
              ugly  
                  damned              one thousand times damned >>>  
              evil  
        cruel  
   nasty  
bow  
of  
the enemy,  
the death that is coming, that is coming for him.  
Another thing flies, oh, that thing likes to fly — likes like the Thing likes to lie — and light is all around it, like lightning,  
like  
                l  
                     i  
                       g  
                      t  
                            n  
                 i  
                   n  
                          g  
it glows.  
And the arrow is no more.  
At first Boromir thinks it is Gimli's axe, but it is not an axe, nor it is a wayward weapon of an enemy.  
It is a hammer.  
It is in front of him and he should dodge it  
but then it changes its course  
            and it smashes a skull with        p  o  w  e  r  
                                                          never before seen  
                           and now it is  
      somewhere else;  
it misses the two hobbits, careful not to touch them, before it lunges forward as if held by hand of an invisible warrior.  
Frodo, Boromir thinks for a moment, before realising it cannot be him because he does not feel the Thing — and Frodo would never let the Thing go — how is he going to let the Thing go when the time comes?  
No time to think any more.  
Another arrow is coming his way, and the Hammer once more stops it. Then it turns against the one who is holding the bow, and it detatches its head as if it never belonged there.  
Boromir turns his head.  
Pippin and Merry are behind him, they keep throwing stones with force and precision, with all the life and power that is in them.  
The Hammer radiates light. The Hammer flies where the enemies cannot see it, and it strikes strikes strikes,  
and Boromir continues to fight  
                                                              and fight?  
for Frodo  
for family  
for Faramir  
for Father  
for the future...

And when it comes that his sword gets caught and broken, the Hammer comes back. It flies into his hand, and everything goes bright. Boromir remembers how he once held the Thing.  
The Hammer is like the very opposite of that.  
It makes him light.  
It makes him strong.  
It gives him hope.  
And so he holds it for dear life.

**Author's Note:**

> don't mind me i'm just playing with words...  
> yell at me: [ lotr blog ](https://femmefaramir.tumblr.com/)  
> support me: [ art blog ](https://n0-n1c.tumblr.com/)


End file.
